


be still, wild and young;

by orphan_account



Series: dj got us falling in love [1]
Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: ATP Finals, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boys Kissing, Established Relationship, London, M/M, One Shot, Secret Relationship, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 11:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21457633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “I wasn’t good enough today, I kept doubting myself. I – I always doubt myself nowadays, it seems. But somehow I’ve never doubted you,” Sascha says, blue eyes shining in the dark before he lowers them, shaking his head. “Jesus, it’s terrifying to think about. But it’s the truth”.-late night confessions in London.
Relationships: Stefanos Tsitsipas/Alexander Zverev
Series: dj got us falling in love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554148
Comments: 17
Kudos: 54





	be still, wild and young;

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, this is 100% a fix it fic after Sascha didn't make the finals in London

The knock on Stefanos’ door is quiet.

It’s almost two in the morning, and Stefanos had given up waiting – given up hoping it would come. He wouldn’t have faulted Sascha for it, and the idea of seeing him now makes him more nervous than he has been in a long time, maybe even since this whole thing between them, whatever it is that they’re doing, started.

He’s not afraid of seeing Sascha’s vulnerability, open wounds raw and exposed. He’s absolutely terrified, though, that Sascha will not want to show them to him.

And why would he?

Tomorrow Stefanos will fight for a chance to win Sascha’s title – the title Sascha has just lost the possibility to defend. Stefanos knows Sascha, for all his competitiveness and sheer grit, would never resent him for that. He also knows that Sascha is incredibly tough on himself and takes some time to work things out and, usually, he doesn’t want anyone to witness him tearing himself apart and slowly putting the pieces back together.

Stefanos is not just someone. He’s Sascha’s… he’s Sascha’s. They belong together, somehow, but Stefanos isn’t sure for how long or if Sascha also feels like he belongs to Stefanos in return – if Sascha loves him enough to lay himself bare and show Stefanos the ugly truth of what he’s going through right now.

The door opens – Stefanos had texted Sascha earlier to let him know he wouldn’t have locked it, in the hopes that this would push Sascha to maybe show up at some point during the night.

Sascha’s silhouette stands out in the dark: tall, shoulders squared, head bowed.

Stefanos loves him so much he can barely breathe as Sascha makes his way to the bed, heart pounding with the strength of his feelings. Sascha looms over Stefanos for a moment, looking a little lost and uncertain, blue eyes cloudy and not meeting his gaze.

Then, his shoulders slumps as he sighs and the tension seems to bleed out of him as he places one knee on the mattress and bends down over Stefanos until he’s lying on top of him and his face is buried in the crook of Stefanos’ neck. Immediately Stefanos’ arms are around him, holding him so soundly that it may be hurting, one hand cradling the back of Sascha’s head, his blond hair soft and a little wild.

They stay like that for a while, engulfed in silence and in each other, until Sascha murmurs, voice raw and breaking a little bit, “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the finals with you”.

Stefanos doesn’t know what to say, scared that he’ll push Sascha into closing off, scared he’ll lose him.

“We’ll have other finals,” he whispers into Sascha’s ear, leaving a small kiss on the top of his sharp cheekbone and wishing he could see those intense, stormy eyes and make Sascha understand just how much he cares, just how much it hurts him to see him defeated and second guessing himself when all Stefanos sees when he looks at him is untameable fire, sheer determination and a beautiful, complicated mind.

Sascha slowly raises his head, brushing his nose along Stefanos’ neck, repeatedly pressing his full, pink lips to his jawline until they reach Stefanos’ mouth. Stefanos responds eagerly, sweetly, cautious until it’s Sascha who deepens the kiss, tongue caressing his own and sharp canines grazing his lips, hungry with an edge of desperation.

Stefanos is so week for Sascha, he gets lost in the kiss, in Sascha’s hands roaming all over his body, in the way Sascha smells clean and in the way his body is so warm, so much so it almost seems feverish.

It’s Sascha who breaks the kiss, breath heavy as he dots small, gentle kisses all over Stefanos’ face, never ceasing to look at him with an intense possessiveness that makes Stefanos shiver and rattles him down to his core.

“You were amazing today,” he says, all honesty, with a tiny smile that oozes pride.

It makes Stefanos blush, and he’s not sure Sascha understands how much it means to him to hear this from him – how he's the only person he _needs _to hear it from.

“I’m so proud of you,” Sascha adds, looking a little bashful and lowering his head to drop a fleeting kiss on Stefanos’ chest, right where his heart is beating a staccato tempo. Sascha seems to notice, because he places a hand, big and calloused, right over Stefano’s heartbeat and looks up with such intensity in those fiery eyes of his that Stefanos feels like he’s going to cry from the sheer weight of his affection for Sascha.

“It’s you,” he blurts out, and forming coherent thoughts is a struggle when he’s pinned under that gaze and Sascha is holding his heart in the palm of one hand. “You do things to my heart,” he says, desperate for Sascha to understand.

He expects Sascha to laugh at him, or to call him a sap as he does at least once a day ever since all of this started. Sascha does none of this, looking stunned for a moment before he crashes his lips to Stefanos’ once again, his free hand coming up to cradle Stefanos’ jaw and hold him close, closer.

The kiss is blazing hot, all consuming, and it feels as if Sascha is trying to crawl into Stefanos and make them one, a moan escaping from his lips when Stefanos buries his fingers in his hair and pulls. Sascha wrenches himself away but stays as close as possible, forehead resting on Stefanos’ as they both breathe heavily.

“You can’t say things like that,” Sascha pants, voice unsteady. “I’m – Stef. Stefanos. Stef-ah-nos. You’re the only thing right now in my life that I’m sure about, you know that?”

Stefanos looks at him, stunned and speechless, one hand flying up to cover Sascha’s hand on his heart, closing around it and holding it as the immensity of what has just been said washes over him and fills him with wonder.

“I wasn’t good enough today, I kept doubting myself. I – I always doubt myself nowadays, it seems. But somehow I’ve never doubted you,” Sascha says, blue eyes shining in the dark before he lowers them, shaking his head. “Jesus, it’s terrifying to think about. But it’s the truth”.

Stefanos squeezes his hand and lifts up the other one to sweetly caress Sascha’s face, the that haunts his thoughts day and night – high cheekbones, sharp jaw, pouty lips.

“That’s good,” he replies, tentatively, feeling the World shift on its axis in this very moment, feeling how nothing will ever be the same, how he will never belong to anyone else like this.

“It’s good?” Sascha asks, a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he lays his head on Stefanos’ chest,

Stefanos immediately starts carding his fingers through Sascha’s hair, comforting and full of adoration. How he wishes Sascha could see himself the way Stefanos sees him – bold, beautiful, brave, a force of nature.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, enjoying the feeling of Sascha’s weight on him, holding him down, making him feel owned in the most precious way. “It’s good. We’re good. Next time you’re on court and you’re doubting, you should think about this: you have me. For as long as you want me, you have me Sasch”.

The fear of rejection is paralysing, especially when Sascha is quiet and doesn’t respond for a while. Then, silently, he takes Stefanos’ hand in his and brings it up to his own chest, where Stefanos can hear his heart going wild, skipping beats, tripping all over itself.

“Good,” he says. “That’s good”.

They fall asleep entangled, Stefanos behind Sascha, holding him, a hand pressing steadily on his heartbeat.


End file.
